Nameless
by Jenny Jennson
Summary: It was supposed to be a normal mission; distract the demons, find an answer. A normal night, a normal mission, until Simon Lewis stepped into the room. Now, Alec, Isabelle, Jace and Clary have a new mission, to discover why a mundane can see them.
1. Chapter 1

**Idris**

 **Fifteen Years Earlier**

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

"A son?" He asked, hesitating in the doorway.

"Yes." She replied, the pride clear in her tone. "He looks just like you."

The man grinned, stepping forward to lift the boy into the air. The infant giggled, his brown eyes, the very same shade of his father's, shining.

By the angel, she prayed her son would always know how precious he was.

He was their first child, their first son, their first everything.

She wanted him to know how much he was loved, how much he was wanted, and how much potential he had. She had loved him since the moment she first dreamed about what he would look, what he would be like as he grew inside of her for nine months.

She had loved him as he kicked, and stretched and did somersaults in her belly. She couldn't help but love him, though she hadn't realized the depth and breadth of that love until he arrived and made that sharp cry out in protest of being yanked into a cold and bright world.

She felt love for him from a place deep within that had never been tapped before, and it overwhelmed her, consumed her. When he was brought to her, she had been afraid to look away from him, because she feared it could have all been just a dream, and she didn't want it to end. The moment she first saw him, she knew she would fight for him, she would bleed for him, she would die for him. She loved him that much.

"What shall we name him?"

She thought for a moment. Only one name came to mind.

"George."

He paused. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She said. "George Simon Lovelace."

"It's a fine name." A third voice agreed.

The man whirled around, clutching his new born son a little tighter.

"Valentine." He whispered.

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

Their deaths were quick, but not painless, like they would have been had they remained loyal. He wiped the blood from his seraph blade, and lifted the infant from his bassinet, cradling him awkwardly in his arms.

"Hello, George." Valentine muttered. "What a fine warrior you will be."

The two disappeared into the night.

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

Sometimes, she wondered how such a cold and calculated man could also be so foolish.

He didn't know just how often she followed him.

Tonight, she decided, she would finally be brave enough to uncover what her husband had worked so hard to hide from her.

The children were safe and sound, put to bed with a kiss against each of their temples. She had thrown on a cloak, keeping a firm arm across her growing middle as if she could protect the life inside of her.

This was not the life she had wanted for herself, or her children.

She had been so happy when she discovered she was pregnant with her first, she had truly believed that Valentine would see his son for the blessing that he was, but he paid Jonathan little mind, and by the time Sebastian was born, nearly a year later, feelings of warmth and had been replaced with tears of sorrow. She had never imagined that bringing a new life into the world would cause her to spiral into a great depression.

And now...

She couldn't continue living like this, pretending that everything was okay when it was not.

She looked at herself in an entirely different way; she was no longer strong, proud Shadowhunter, but a mother, struggling to find her self-worth, struggling to realize that the man she loved, the man she had chosen to marry, the father of her children, was a monster, and that despite everything he had done, all the devastation he had left in his path, she had stayed with him.

The moment she caught sight of his retreating figure, she moved from her hiding spot, her arm still drawn tightly across her middle, and slipped into the old cabin.

Upon the death of her father-in-law, the deed had been transferred to their name, but he had refused to spend so much as an afternoon there with his family. The first time she asked, he replied that the lake was not safe for the children to be around. The second time, he ignored her, and she did not question him again.

With a free hand, she pushed the door open.

Someone, or something let out a wail.

She would have known that sound anywhere. Any mother would.

 _You call yourself a mother?_ An all too familiar voice scolded. _Look at the man you chose to father your own children! You can't protect them!_

Her own mother had understood what a true gift motherhood could be, she hadn't had the chance to. With the sudden discovery, she was beginning to wonder if she ever would.

The first time she held Jonathan and Sebastian, she hadn't feel a connection.

She had sat there, staring at their chubby little cheeks. They felt chunky, and she couldn't quite believe they had come from her and her husband, but their eyes were bright green, like her own, and he had the same dark eyelashes.

They both had fair hair, like his, and some of their mannerisms, even at their young age, reminded her of him. She could never admit just how much that scared her.

The wailing grew louder. With a shaking hand, she yanked the torn curtain aside.

Two babies lay side by side in a bassinet.

One was still howling, his face red, and his eyes bloodshot, while the other remained silent, staring at her, as if trying to place her.

He looked so much like his father.

She had heard of Stephen's death from Valentine, and after Celine's suicide, everyone had simply assumed that her unborn child had died with her.

And yet, here he was, the last of the Herondale bloodline.

What had Valentine _done_ to him?

Her heart had never felt so heavy and hard to hold

She had spent hours lost in depression, wondering how her life could her life could have possibly ended up the way it had, she had stopped trying to fight against her husband, she had stopped trying to uncover his master plan

She hadn't protected her own children, and she hadn't protected them.

Carefully, she unwound her arm from her middle.

She couldn't protect anyone.

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

Not a day went by that she did not think of either boy she had saved.

She could never blame them for the burden she carried, but their eyes, piercing, powerful, had haunted her from the moment she first discovered them, each nestled in a creaking bassinet, without so much as a blanket to keep them warm.

Only a few days old, they had already suffered far worse than any child should have, orphaned by the cruelty of her husband.

She had to save them.

She owed them that much, so she had taken both babies, stealing them, much like Valentine had, passing them off to the only person that could help..

Then, she watched with silent pride as her husband grieved, sobbing like he'd lost his own.

She only knew of what had happened to one of the children.

The last of the Herondale blood line had been sent to the home of a one-time friend, a family longing for a second child, while the other's fate remained unknown.

She could only hope it would be better than the life he could have lived.

Robert and Maryse had accepted a position to run the New York Institute. In her last letter, she had spoken of her children, One-year-old Alexander, five-month-old Jace, and Isabelle, born just weeks before. They had escaped the Circle with few scars.

Despite everything that had happened, they were the only ones she could trust.

She wished she could find peace with the decision she was making. She was far from ready to move forward with relief and joy, putting it all 'behind her.' She saw it as an escape of responsibility, not a selfless act that showed she was not like Valentine.

Soon, the three that she loved the most would become part of another family, perhaps not in name, or blood, but in heart, the things that mattered most.

George might never know that he had been a Lovelace.

Jace would learn the truth one day, and chose to do with it what he wanted.

Jonathan and Sebastian would know they were Morgenstern's, they would remember, and someday, they would have to tell their sister the truth.

 _Please._ She thought, pressing a hand to her swollen middle. _Forgive me._

* * *

 **New York**

 **Six Months Later**

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

There would never be a day, not a moment that went by where she would not think of what she was about to do, the choice she had already made, every single agonizing second.

"Mommy?" He questioned, lifting his head from her shoulder.

She brushed a hand across his hair, soft and blonde, just like his father's, in response.

His brother had not stirred.

Her love was never ending, her prayers never ceasing; she believed they had been brought into her life because of a greater plan, a greater power that she herself could not fully understand.

A blaring horn broke her from her thoughts.

She glared down at the noise, the warm summer air blowing strands of hair loose from the tight bun she had pulled it back into earlier.

Whoever had nicknamed it the _City That Never Sleeps_ was correct, for New York was just as she remembered it; loud, and in constant motion.

The jolt to her stomach reminded her that she had to keep moving.

Keeping her arms around the both of them, she leaped from the building, landing expertly on her feet. She was grateful for the glamour keeping her hidden. They would have been sure to offer her aide had they noticed her condition.

Mundanes were nothing if not helpful, but despite the pain, she could not revel herself to them.

She saw the things others could not, runes drawn against the brick buildings, protecting the warriors hidden away inside, raveners parading amongst the humans, mixing in.

New York was crawling with demons.

Where she headed was the safest place, but a single thought plagued her mind.

 _This is not the life I wanted for you._

It really wasn't

It was the right decision, though that did little to take away the heart rendering realization of the choice she was making. She could only hope that the three of them would become strong, but kind people who strove to do right, that they would love, honor and respect.

A ruined life would soon become a redeemed one, an opportunity for them to start again and a chance at a better life.

"Magnus!" She called, her fist hitting the wood. "Please, open up! I need your help!"

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

Her heels clicking against the linoleum tiles were a dead giveaway to her arrival, but he still refused to glance up from the mountain of paperwork cluttering his desk. He never met her gaze anymore, not if he could help it, for looking meant acknowledging the constant overwhelming, suffocating guilt that clung to him like a second skin.

Often, he wondered if it would have been easier to feel nothing at all.

He gripped his pen so tightly, he could have split it in half. "Are they asleep?"

"Yes." She replied, her lips forming a thin line "Fast asleep."

She perched on the arm of the chair across from him, desperately looking for something to say to him. The bedtime ritual, which he seldom helped with, retreating to his office directly after dinner, claiming that there was too much work to be done, had gone out without a hitch for once.

Truly, she felt blessed to have been the lucky chosen one to be the mother to those three beautiful children, but her oldest was bossy, a natural leader, her middle a rule breaker, and her youngest colicky, as well as stubborn. It was a trait she recognized easily, and she could only imagine that Isabelle would grow to be headstrong with a good heart, doing whatever she had to do for those she loved.

In a life filled with monsters, sacrifices and misery, it was Alec, Jace and Isabelle who reminded her of her duty. Never would she stop protecting them.

"I suppose you'll be retiring as well?"

 _Not without you_. She wanted to say, but she wouldn't have meant it.

When had those words stopped being true?

Heading for her, their bedroom on the fourth floor of the Institute hadn't even crossed her mind until he mentioned it, and yet, she was tired, which surprised her. She was an insomniac, not by choice, by duty.

Sleep was a rarity in their world, becoming even less so with her five-month-old daughter

She had grown used to going without, there was no logical reason for her to feel weak.

It suddenly dawned on her that the exhaustion wasn't physical. It was emotional.

She could feel it easily, every time she was even within proximity to the man she called her husband. There was no love, only a life together, far from the one they had originally imagined, banished to the mundane world for crimes they would always regret, with children, and a duty to train, mentor, and protect future generations of Shadowhunters.

A gust of wind whipped her hair around her shoulders. She staggered backwards as a familiar gaping hole appeared where his bookshelf had once been. Someone tumbled into the room, toppling to the floor as the portal closed behind them. He moved to stand in front of her, unsure of whether to be concerned, or alarmed.

"Who are you?" He demanded, wishing he had a weapon handy. "Identify yourself. Now!"

"Robert." The voice was filled with agony. "Maryse. Please, I need your help."

"Who are you?" Maryse asked, echoing her husband. "How did you get in here?"

A sacred rune had been placed upon the institute to protect those inside, one only known by Shadowhunters.

A hesitant hand reached up to remove the hood covering the figure's face. They hadn't recognized the voice, but that auburn hair was unmistakable.

Unforgettable.

Jonathan and Sebastian were cradled in her arms.

Neither objected when she moved to lay the boys, both fast asleep, on the sofa.

"J-Jocelyn?" Robert chocked out.

She nodded, and might have tried to smile, but instead doubled over in pain.

"Jocelyn." Maryse said, taking a step forward. Robert caught her wrist.

"Don't." He warned, turning away from the woman. "She is no friend of ours."

She had once been, did that not count for anything?

"I'm not hurt." Jocelyn whispered.

Her abdomen was swollen, round, just as Faith had been only months before. Indeed, she was not hurt.

She was pregnant

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

There was no day on the calendar to celebrate the birth parents whose sacrifices allowed others to live happily ever after.

Because of the woman, whoever she was, she would get to witness the baby's first smile, his eager crawl, the stumbling walk, and his confident run. She had witnessed those things before, of course, with her elder children, Elliot and Rebecca, but there was something about Simon that just mae him so...

 _Special._

Perhaps it was the knowledge that he had grown inside her heart instead of underneath it.

Adoption wasn't all beauty; it was hard, and it was sad, and it started with a loss.

When he had first come into the Lewis home, neither she nor her husband knew what to expect. They had never known a baby to be so afraid, they had never seen a child so young fight _not_ to be.

It was days before she knew he could smile, his teary eyes and tight-lipped half smile were all she could picture from his first days.

She wondered if he would like sports like his brother, or music like his sister.

Would he be a writer, or a doctor or a great statesman?

Would he laugh all the time, or make others laugh, or would he be serious and pensive, contemplating the deep things of life. Whatever he was, whoever he became, she wanted him to live to the fullest potential he had.

He had stolen their hearts.

At just two months old, he was funny, kind, smart, brave, and worthy of all the love in this world, and god, how they loved him.

Being his parents was a blessing, an answered prayer, more than they could have ever asked for. Sharing each day with him, and their family was what life was meant to be.

Their hope was to provide him with the courage and strength to embrace all of what made him the wonderful person he was.

She hoped he would remember that all of them, together, would always be his family.

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

She couldn't bring herself to look at him, instead busying herself with tending to Jocelyn, barking out orders every so often.

"Robert..."

"Don't." Robert warned, throwing a hand upwards to cut her off. "Do not defend her. She has no right to come here after everything she has done!"

 _It's not her fault_. She wanted to say, but that wasn't the truth.

Jocelyn had once been a friend, a very good one that she had survived some of her most difficult years of training with at the academy, the one who had fought with her, side by side, protecting one another.

Always.

Jocelyn cried out in agony, clamping down on the hand of a seventeen-year-old Shadowhunter so tightly that the poor girl's knuckles turned white. Another contraction.

The baby would be here soon.

"Why did you come here?" Robert demanded.

Suddenly, there was a blade hovering only inches above her neck.

"If you came here to act as a spy for Valentine..."

He raised his arm, ready to strike.

"Valentine will no longer be a problem after tonight!"

The blade clattered against the tiled floor.

"W-What?" He stammered.

Maryse hesitantly perched at the edge of the bed.

"What?" She asked.

"Jocelyn." Robert hissed, when she didn't answer. "What are you going to do?"

Did he really believe that her loyalty still lay with her husband? Valentine was a cruel man, a Shadowhunter who had gone rouge, it went without saying that he could, and would hurt even those closest to him if it meant getting what he wanted.

They all had the scars to prove it.

"I'm going to make this world safe for our children again."

Robert knelt to retrieve his fallen sword, his moves cautionary, and strategic. The years apart had left him still so untrusting. "What about the children?"

There was still a part of him that was concerned for her safety.

The three shared a knowing look.

"No." Maryse begged. It couldn't be true. "Jocelyn, no, you can't!"

"I have to." Jocelyn released her grip on the girl's hand, reaching for her old friend's instead. "It's my only hope of saving them."

"But the baby." Robert began to pace again. "Jonathan... Sebastian. What about them? What about _you,_ Jocelyn? You know what Valentine is capable of... We all do."

She didn't answer.

"Jocelyn?"

"Maryse." She said suddenly. "I need you to do something for me."

Maryse hesitated.

Somewhere deep down was her best friend, her old roommate, the girl she had stayed up half the night, telling all of her secrets to, the girl she had one day hoped would be the godmother of her children, their guardian if anything were to ever happen.

They had made a vow, to always be there for one another.

Even after everything that had transpired, she couldn't break that promise now.

"Anything."

"Raise them." Jocelyn begged. Another contraction hit, and an attendant announced from somewhere in the background that it was time for her to begin pushing.

"What?"

"Raise them." She said again, her tone filled with agony. "Jonathan, Sebastian and the baby. Please."

 _"What?"_

The anger was back, and in full force.

"Raise _your_ children?" Robert roared. "You want us to... No! Absolutely not! That is out of the question! We have already helped you more than you deserve! The last child you asked us to save-"

"Is now our son." Maryse finished, her protective instincts getting the better of her.

He paused, as if remembering that the only reason he had his second son in the first place was because of the woman lying before him.

"I love Jace." Robert muttered.

"As do I." She replied. "Along with every child who lives under this roof. It is our duty to mentor them, to protect them, and raise them to be the best Shadowhunters they can be."

"Of course, but-"

"Push Jocelyn."

Maryse tightened her grip on Jocelyn's hand. She screamed.

"Push."

"Maryse." Robert said. "We can't do this."

"You're almost there, Jocelyn."

"Please!" Jocelyn cried. "It's the only way they'll stand a chance!"

There was a moment of doubt. Who was she truly trying to save?

The unborn child? Jonathan? Sebastian?

Or herself?

 _Her_ children.

Not once had she ever claimed ownership of the life inside of her, or the two boys still sleeping soundly.

Maryse understood immediately.

Jocelyn loved the children, enough to let them grow up without her.

She loved the children enough to let them go.

"Yes." Maryse whispered.

Robert turned to stare at her, his jaw falling slightly. "What?"

"We must do this." She told him. "It is our duty."

"Our duty? Maryse-"

"We will raise the children." She said, determination clear in her tone. "We will love them with everything we have to give, they will be cherished members of our family."

Robert made no moves to argue.

"Thank you." Jocelyn whispered, her head falling back against the pillow.

"It's time." The attendant announced. "Push Jocelyn!"

Jocelyn closed her eyes, her head falling back against the pillow.

 _"Push!"_

"One day, you will have to tell them the truth about me." She said. "That I wasn't strong enough, that I didn't put them first when I should have, but please... Also tell them how much I loved them, because no matter what, I _did_ love them."

"I know you did."

A piercing cry echoed off the walls of the infirmary. Maryse felt a gentle hand squeeze her own.

When she looked down, Jocelyn was gone.

* * *

 **X~X~X~X**

* * *

She was an angel.

 _"À la claire fontaine m'en allant promener."_ She sang. _"J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle que je m'y suis baignée."  
_

Maryse stood on the terrace, gently rocking the bundle in her arms as she stared up at the night sky. All around her, mundane moved freely, completely unaware of the possible danger surrounding them.

The baby cooed in her sleep, also at peace. _  
_

"A girl?"

She hadn't heard him enter. His arrival was unexpected; after Jocelyn's disappearance, he had stormed out of the infirmary before the attendant could even announce the gender. _  
_

"Yes." She replied, turning to face him. _  
_

He surprised her, holding his arms out. He stared at her, as if asking for permission. With a hesitant smile, she handed the baby off. Robert seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. _  
_

"She's beautiful." He declared.

And in that moment, Maryse could not have loved her husband more.

The look in his eyes, she recognized it immediately, the flash of pure admiration as he stared down at the child in his arms, it was the same way he looked at Alec, Jace, and Isabelle. For the first time in so long, Robert and Maryse Lightwood had an understanding.

The infant was not Jocelyn's.

The children were no longer Jocelyn's. They had never been Valentine's, not really, not when he had ignored them, and treated them cruelly. Not when he had attempted to turn the eldest into a monster. He did not deserve them.

No. The children were not Morgenstern's.

Jonathan, Sebastian, and the baby were theirs, perhaps not in name, but always in heart.

They had loved the boys from the moment they were born, and now, they loved her.

"Clarissa." Maryse whispered, brushing a finger across infant's cheek.

"Clarissa." Robert echoed. "It suits her."

The name meant bright, and it was not for her flaming wisp of red hair, it was simply for the light that Maryse just knew the child would bring into their lives. She reached for Clarissa again, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, as she continued her song.

 _" _I've loved you for so long, I will never forget you."__


	2. Chapter 2

**New York**

 **Fifteen Years Later**

* * *

She was surprised to find that he was annoyed with her pouting. Usually it was her blind optimism, her ability to see the good in a world filled with darkness, that got on his nerves.

"Clary." Alec said. "We still have-"

"Three weeks." She finished, cutting him off. "There's only three weeks of summer left! We haven't had any time to relax!"

"We're Shadowhunters." He reminded her.

"You got to sleep in today." Jace offered, from the chair beside her.

Clary scowled at him. "You woke me up at five."

"As opposed to three..."

She raised her hand, ready to strike.

"Clary!" A stern voice called.

Her hand dropped, and she whirled around to face him, a tentative smile on her face. "Seb! I was just..."

"You were just about to apologize to Jace." Sebastian finished, his emerald eyes appraising her.

She remained silent, unmoving.

 _"Clarissa."_ He warned. "Now."

"Sorry." Clary grumbled grudgingly, dropping down into her seat again.

Jace grinned at her. "Thank you."

Sebastian crossed the room, whacking the blonde haired Shadowhunter on the back of his head before moving to perch on the arm of his sister's chair.

"Hey!" Jace whined. "Ouch! What the hell was that for?"

"Maybe next time you'll think twice about waking my sister up at the crack of dawn to cook for you."

Clary grinned at him, and he ruffled her curls in response, a grin spreading across his face at the sound of Alec and Isabelle's suppressed laughter.

"It goes without saying that when Maryse isn't here, Clary is in charge of food."

Isabelle shrugged. "I can make breakfast tomorrow."

 _"No."_ The four said in unison.

She glared at them, and Clary sighed, reaching out to squeeze her parabatai's hand. It was no secret that whenever Isabelle was in the kitchen, the rest of the Institute's residents, Clary included, seemed to disappear without a trace.

Sebastian surveyed the room. "Why the long faces, guys?"

"Clary pointed out that we only have three weeks of summer left." Jace replied, his lips forming a thin line. "The only think we've done is go on missions."

"The life of a Shadowhunter." Isabelle mumbled.

"We've had three months away from the academy." He reminded them, trying and failing to sound upbeat.

Clary knew her brother was just as bummed as the rest of them that their vacation had not been filled with the bliss mundane adolescents experienced during their time off of school, but they were Shadowhunters, a birth right, an honor, a duty they all took very seriously.

They had taken an oath during each of their rune ceremonies to protect mundanes from the constant dangers they were so unaware that they faced on a daily basis, and the academy, essentially a boarding school in the Shadowhunter homeland, was where some of the greatest Shadowhunters had trained.

"Not good enough, Seb." Isabelle told him.

"Well..." Sebastian drew out, pausing for dramatic effect. "It's not a great adventure, or anything, but... We could go to Taki's."

Clary wasted no time in jumping to her feet, catching hold of both Isabelle and Jace's hands, tugging them along behind her. She told herself that she had been reaching for Sebastian, though everyone, except the golden haired Shadowhunter, perhaps, knew the truth.

He was right, going to Taki's, the greatest restaurant in New York, was no big adventure, but if it would get them out of the Institute.

"By the angel, Red, don't yank my arm out of socket." Jace muttered, making no moves to pull away from her. If anything, his grip tightened.

"I could eat." Alec said, following along behind them.

Sebastian clapped him on the back in response.

"This doesn't make up for our boring summer, Clary." Isabelle looped her arm through Clary's own.

"Yeah." Clary agreed. "But it's something, Izzy."

She shrugged. "I guess."

They were almost to the door. Fourteen more steps, and they would be free, even if it was only for an hour or so.

"Going somewhere?"

Clary froze. "Hi Jon."

Jonathan approached them, his green irises, a trait shared by the three Fairchild siblings, appraising her.

As the oldest of them all, just a year ahead of Sebastian and Alec, Jonathan often took it upon himself to be responsible for the rest. He was in his last year of the academy, his future uncertain. A great Shadowhunter, both the Clave and the Silent Brothers were interested in his potential, as was the London and the Los Angeles Institutes.

It suddenly dawned on Clary that she had no idea _what_ her eldest brother wanted to do when he joined the ranks of full blooded Shadowhunters. It wasn't like he had ever sat down to have a heart-to-heart with her about his hopes and dreams.

"Hey." Sebastian greeted, subtly moving to stand in between them. He often played mediator between the two. "We were just about to go to Taki's. Wanna come?"

 _Why?_ Clary mentally cursed him. _Why would you invite him? No one wants him to come._

Guilt flooded through her.

She loved both of her brothers, she really did, but she and Jonathan fought more than Alec and Isabelle, and that was saying a lot. He criticized her, critiqued her, and often threw comments her way that he knew would hurt her, but he also put her first, even when she asked him not to, he protected her along with Sebastian, and he had always tried to shield her from the shame and devastation that followed their Morgenstern blood.

Sebastian was the one she could go to for everything; he picked her up when she fell, he made her laugh after another one of Jonathan's hurtful comments.

"No thanks." Jonathan said, crossing his arms. "You, Jace, Isabelle and Alec can all go if you want, but Clary's staying here."

She stared at him. "What?"

"You're not going." He told her. "You owe me another hour in the training room."

Her disbelief turned to anger, her eyes narrowing.

"Jon-"

"Distractions are gonna get you killed, Clary."

Clary scowled at him.

He was always questioning her attention span.

They had been sparing that morning. On a normal day, she would have partnered with Isabelle, but Alec, the control freak, declared that she needed a challenge.

She was happy to go up against one of them; besides Jon and Sebastian, Jace and Alec were the best fighters she knew.

Even the elder Shadowhunters, her brothers included, residing in the Institute, ones who had been fighting demons for years, seemed envious of the praise the two boys constantly received. It was one of her proudest moments when she got a few good hits in, even flipping Alec over her shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground, but then she found herself face first on the tile, Alec's bar resting heavily against her back.

Jace laughed when Isabelle missed, nearly striking herself in the face. He had a great laugh, almost a musical sound that she wished she could listen to on repeat. As they grew older, she heard it less often, though it was just as distracting as it had always been.

Jonathan warned her that diversions, much like emotions, would only lead to her getting hurt.

She liked training with Jace, for the pure unpredictably of it all.

Jonathan, Sebastian, Alec and Isabelle liked to be strategic, their hits constantly the same, though they still somehow managed to catch her off guard every now and then, while Jace loved to live in the moment, his movements incautious, unpredictable, precipitous, sometimes worrisome.

He never took the time to plan anything out, much to her amusement, and the others annoyance.

She was the only one who approved of his recklessness.

Alec told her once that she didn't need to encourage Jace's ulterior motive of saving the world.

"Lay off Jon." Jace warned, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "It was one time."

"She's been in the field long enough not to make rookie mistakes." Jonathan replied, the bitterness clear in his tone. "Stop defending her, Jace, she can fight her own battles."

For once, he was right, she agreed with him. She was a Shadowhunter, she could defend herself.

"I'm going to Taki's." Clary declared, starting towards the door.

Jonathan yanked her back with a firm grip on her arm. "Clary."

"Jon."

 _"Clarissa..."_

 _"Jonathan."_ She mimicked, trying to yank free from his grasp.

"Guys." Sebastian snapped, pushing them apart. "Knock it off, both of you."

"Don't defend her, Sebastian! She needs to train."

"She's always training." He replied, glancing back at her. "What she needs is a little _fun."_

Jonathan regarded him coldly. _"Fun_ is going to get her killed."

"Jon." Clary sighed. "We've been training all day. I promise, tomorrow, I'll-"

He threw a hand upward to cut her off. "You know what, Clary? Go do whatever the hell you want. I don't give a shit."

His comment hurt more than he probably ever realize, but Clary swallowed hard, blinking back tears. Jace squeezed her hand again. She tried to smile back at him. She would go to Taki's with her friends, she would have fun, and she would forget about her brother, even if it was only for an hour.

A blaring alarm stopped her before she could reach the door.

"Sorry guys." Sebastian muttered, glancing back at the monitor. "It looks like our fun is gonna have to wait."


	3. Chapter 3

"Come _on_ Simon!" She said, fingers locking around his wrist before he could even pull his keys from the ignition. "We're missing all the fun!"

With surprising strength, he yanked his arm back.

"I'm coming." He grumbled, too irritated to feel any guilt at the sight of her fallen face.

Sometimes, he wondered how she continually dragged him into situations he would have rather avoided, Maureen was his friend, and everything, but he would have rather been at home, playing his guitar, and spending time with his family.

Eric leaned forward to clap him on the back.

"She wants you, dude." He muttered, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Why don't you go for it? Maureen is _hot."_

Simon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Eric was his next-door neighbor, the two had known each other most of their lives. They had formed a band together at the start of sophomore year, along with their friends Matt and Kirk.

In another life, he might have considered the guy his best friend, but his obsession with military history that always organized the war details of their weekly Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, and his attitude towards women kept him from doing so.

There was another reason he couldn't refer to Eric as his best friend, or Kirk, or Matt, or even Maureen, who he had known since they were six. He had never felt like he fit in with his group of friends, like he didn't belong there. It was a consciousness he couldn't explain, but he had sensed it for as long as he could remember. He felt as if he didn't belong anywhere.

"Si." Eric nudged him. "You coming?"

The last thing he wanted to do was head into an overcrowded club, with bad lighting and loud music, but he was a man of his word, and when Maureen had first asked him to come two days earlier, he had readily agreed.

"Yeah." Simon grumbled, clutching his keys in his fist. "Let's go."

As he followed along behind his friends, something caught his eye. A symbol someone had tagged outside of Pandemonium, a strange shape, lines overlapping one another.

It jumped out at him like a _Do Not Walk_ sign.

"What the hell..."

"Simon!" Maureen called.

"I..." He stuttered, searching for the street art again. It had vanished. "I'm coming!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Would you quit whining?" Alec demanded, tossing her the blade. "You're getting out of the Institute, aren't you?"

"Sorry if I don't find going on missions relaxing, Alec." Clary shot back.

Isabelle laughed, threading her arm through her parabatai's. "We can go to Taki's tomorrow."

"Unless there's another mission." She grumbled.

Jonathan threw her a warning look.

"You sure you don't want me to come?" He asked.

"No." Clary said, a little too quickly.

"No." Alec echoed, catching hold of her elbow. "We've got it, Jon, but thanks."

He yanked her along behind him.

"Subtle." He teased.

Clary grinned back at him. The three siblings almost never went on missions together. It was too much of a distraction; either they bickered, or they put one another first when the situation at hand should have been their first priority.

Alec was the brother she wished she had.

Sure, they fought, but he had always treated her just like he treated Isabelle, like Clary was his little sister too. In some ways, she guessed she was, they had been raised together, learning to fight side by side. He was her best friend, along with Jace and Isabelle, someone she idolized.

He tried to protect her against Jonathan as much as he could, and she loved him for that.

"Why would anyone want mundane blood?" She questioned, as they caught up with Jace.

He shrugged in response. "That's what we're going to find out."

Isabelle brushed a finger across her whip. "I was hoping for a more exciting mission."

"We don't get to pick and choose." Alec reminded her. "You guys ready?"

"Clary." Sebastian called.

Casting the others an apologetic glance, she slipped away from them, and went to stand beside her brother. He stared down at her for a moment, before reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder; a silent plea, just like the one she had always given him, to return the moment the mission was over, unharmed, unscathed.

Jonathan and Sebastian were the only family she had left.

"I love you." She told him.

Sebastian managed a tentative smile. "I love you too, little sister."


	5. Chapter 5

**Credit goes to Cassandra Clare and the writers of Shadowhunters :)**

* * *

"Jace looks like he's about to murder someone."

A blush rose to her cheeks.

Isabelle smirked in response.

Her brother hated when Clary was the distraction.

His kills seemed to multiply on those nights.

It was almost as if the sooner he destroyed them, the quicker the vile thoughts would vanish from the demon's mind, like they had never existed at all.

Jace had begun to protest the moment he caught slight of Clary's dress, a hand-me-down from Isabelle. He claimed it wasn't safe, but as the only two girls in the group, they had often been used as bait, long ago perfecting luring the creatures into a false sense of warmth and security and readying their weapons before the demon even knew what hit them.

"I don't like it." He grumbled, from across the room.

Isabelle nudged Clary with her elbow.

For years, Clary had kept her awake late into the night, obsessing over the golden haired boy they both knew well; what he had said to her on a certain day, the way he often slipped an arm around her as they sat in the comfortable silence that only the two of them found to be peaceful, the way he laughed, how much she loved his trademark smug smirk.

They were destined, and maybe they would have had realized it already if they weren't so stubborn.

She didn't mind the late-night conversations or knowing that Jace worried about Clary more than his own sister during a mission. She was the only one who smiled all the way through their constant banter, she was the only one who never grew tired of listening to one talk about the other. She was their constant supporter, their biggest fan.

Sebastian didn't like the thought of Clary falling in love, even if it was with _Jace_ , who he trusted with his life. Alec was just as protective of her, though the only thing he _really_ worried about was PDA; the looks Jace and Clary frequently shared were enough to make him gag, or roll his eyes, shaking his head as he mumbled for them to get a room under his breath.

Isabelle had no clue how Jonathan felt about the idea of his sister and her brother someday realizing that they were truly meant to be, he had never commented on it. Of course, the only time he paid her any mind was when he felt she had done something wrong.

Isabelle didn't buy the whole 'loner' act when it came to Jonathan Fairchild.

He cared, probably more than his brother and sister would ever realize.

* * *

He wanted to leave.

The music was too loud, the lights too bright, and the club too crowded. Maureen had been begging him to dance with her for the last twenty minutes, but he'd refused every time she asked.

He was too on edge to feel apologetic.

A boy was making his way towards the VIP area, gliding through the crowd with unnatural ease. He was normal-enough-looking for Pandemonium, with his electric, probably dyed blue hair that stuck up around his head, though he was lacking the elaborate facial tattoos and big metal bars through his ears and lips that the rest of the crowd seemed to favor.

Simon took another swig of the beer Eric had gotten for him.

He hated the taste, but Maureen had already offered to drive them all home, and getting drunk seemed to be the only way he would have any fun. Maybe after a few beers, he would lighten up, and stop feeling so...

 _Paranoid._

"Simon!" An all too familiar voice called. Two hands wrapped around his wrist, pulling him upright. "Come _on!_ You love this song!"

He didn't.

Sometimes he wondered if it was possible if she knew that he had only come to Pandemonium with her because she liked it. He was a loner, not the social butterfly she wanted him to be.

He wasn't sure _why_ she liked it, but she did, and he was a good friend, a man of his word. When she had asked, he had agreed, inviting the rest of their friends along, much to her annoyance.

He couldn't be alone with her.

It might have meant _something_ , something that could never be. Maureen had all the subtly of a hand grenade, especially when it came to her feelings. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and he couldn't stand to break it. He would never have more-than-friends feelings towards her.

He would never feel the same way towards her that she felt when it came to him.

"Maureen." Simon pronounced carefully, removing his arm from her grasp. "I..."

One look at her fallen face had him backtracking quickly.

"You're right." He mumbled, offering her a hand. "I love this song. Let's dance."

The blue-haired boy was making his way off the dance floor, looking lost, as if he hadn't found whom he was searching for.

Maureen began to lead him to the center of the crowd.

* * *

"Who is she staring at?" He heard Alec mutter.

Jace scanned the crowd in attempt to see what his sister saw.

Instead, he caught sight of the target, a blue haired boy whose wide eyes were way too bright a green; the color of antifreeze, spring grass. He stood out like a sore thumb, and yet, to the mundanes in the over populated club, he was just like them, human, innocent.

He shook his head in annoyance.

They had no idea just how much danger they were all in.

"Izzy." Alec snapped.

The girls were across the room, dressed to kill, dressed as if they were there for a party instead of a mission. As gorgeous as Clary looked, with her hair piled on top of her head in a curly bun, her makeup applied expertly, and the tight, black dress hugging her every curve, he wished she had worn something else.

He wished she wasn't the bait.

He was going to kill several demons tonight for the way they were looking at her. With each plunge of his seraph blade, he would erase the vile thoughts from their minds, sending them back to hell where they belonged.

 _"Izzy."_ Alec said again, disapproval dripping from his tone.

"Yes, Alec." She hissed in response, glancing back at Clary. "We're ready."

A demon disguised as a bouncer brushed past the two girls, glancing back at Clary. His eyes roamed her body.

Jace's jaw tightened.

Alec caught his arm before he could charge forward.

"Jace." He warned. "Not yet."

Clary smiled sweetly at the shapeshifter, though when she met his gaze for the thousandth time that night, her eyes reflected disgust.

Jace offered her a wink, a silent promise that it would soon be over.

Isabelle reached for her hand, squeezing softly.

Their target knocked into a departing partygoer, mimicking her appearance with an easy glamour. She smiled, her too-bright eyes glowing. It was time.

Isabelle and Clary climbed up onto the platform. Jace's eyes narrowed.

If _any_ of them touched her...

* * *

He let out a startled gasp.

How was... _That_ even humanly possible?

The blue haired boy, with his too-bright green eyes, was now a _woman_ , the very same woman, with her high heels, and tight pink dress he had accidently bumped into earlier.

He had watched the person, the creature, the _thing,_ he didn't know what to call it, transform as it made its way towards the VIP area.

"What?" Maureen demanded, reluctantly detangling herself from him so she could meet his gaze. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I... I..." Simon stuttered.

He couldn't tell her.

She would think he was crazy. Maybe he was; he'd only had half a beer, so he certainly wasn't seeing things. He was too clear headed.

"Simon?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but something, really _someone_ distracted him.

Two girls were nearing the entrance, arms intertwined. One was short, despite the heels she wore, and her vibrant hair was beginning to fall from the bun she had pulled it back into.

The raven haired girl nearly blinded him.

Through the darkness, smoke, and artificial fog, her pale dress shone out like a beacon.

Several men followed her as if they were under a spell, too distracted to notice anything else around them, even the two dark shapes hard on their heels, weaving after them through the crowd.

Simon pushed Maureen even further away from them, his stare fixated on the strangers.

He could just make out that the shapes were boys, tall and wearing black clothes.

He couldn't have said how, exactly, he knew they were following the others, but he did. He could see it in the way they paced him, their careful watchfulness, the slinking grace of their movements. A small flower of apprehension began to open inside his chest.

The dark haired boy reached for the curtain, ready to yank it closed.

The blonde produced something long and sharp that flashed under the strobing lights.

A knife.

"Simon."

"I... I..." He stammered, spinning on his heel. "I have to go!"


	6. Chapter 6

She forced a smile that seemed genuine.

Isabelle was on the platform above her, dancing along to the fast tempo of the pounding music. She raised her arms above her head, a sultry grin on her face. More demons began to approach.

Clary stumbled along, nowhere near as graceful as her parabatai.

She was always the better decoy; mundanes and Downworlders alike were drawn to her natural beauty, her wit, her charisma. She could make any boy fall for her with a simple toss of her glossy hair.

Alec was still hidden in the shadows, keeping watch, his expression unreadable. He didn't like the idea of them being the distraction any more than Jace did, but someone had to do it.

The ravener had shifted to the form of a woman, her dark hair pulled back into a high pony tail, her dress even tighter than Clary's own.

She produced a vile, the glass tinted a dark red, the color of blood, pressing it into the palm of one of the demons she and Isabelle hadn't been able to catch the attention of.

Jace appeared the moment the shapeshifter vanished, strategically hiding his blade from view by just the slight turn of his wrist. He placed a hand on her waist, and Clary's smile faltered slightly.

If that bitch tried to touch him...

 _"Clary."_ Alec hissed, too low for anyone else to hear. _"Focus."_

Obediently, she beckoned a demon closer with her eyes.

Jace's jaw tightened, but his anger didn't detour his attention.

"I hear you've been pedaling mundane blood."

Her lips formed a thin line.

"Why?" She questioned, boredom dripping from her tone. "Are you looking to score?"

"I'm not." Jace replied, easily spinning her around, forcing her to meet his hard gaze. "But you're gonna tell me who is."

The ravener smiled as if she were about to gloat. "Well, you're outnumbered here."

Jace grinned too, the coldness and hostility, although familiar when it came to demons, still sent a shiver down her spine. That was not the Jace she knew, the Jace she loved.

"Oh, I like our odds."

His blade appeared, almost gleaming in the dim light.

"Last chance." He hissed.

 _"Stop!"_ An unfamiliar voice called.

A boy pushed through the billowing curtains, his eyes widening in fear.


End file.
